


How Slade Gets Punched in the General Crotch Area Vol. 286903

by siltimgoinghome



Category: Rover Red: Alone in Apocalypse
Genre: F/M, NSFW, punchsladeinthedick2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-11 00:44:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10451199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siltimgoinghome/pseuds/siltimgoinghome
Summary: Joelene and Slade have had an interesting history, almost since they had first met. If she wants him to obey her orders, she's going to have to remind him of that, leaving a few lasting marks along the way.CW: anatomical language for the body of a pre-transition trans man.





	

#punchsladeinthegeneralcrotcharea2k17

Joelene's lips curled in contempt as she looked at the monitor screen currently displaying her captive. She had ordered Sasha to bound Slade with ropes so that he had no hope of escaping. She was now contemplating how exactly she would manage to get Slade to bend to her will as she stared at the back of his head. She knew that she wanted to send him directly to Death; it seemed that some blackmail would be in order to make sure that he would obey and follow through on his orders, however.  


She gathered herself, sliding her six inch golden heels onto her feet, and grabbed a bag sitting in the corner of the room before striding confidently into the Water Room. Slade had been moved there shortly after that pesky rover had been sent out, but she had made sure Jonah was moved to the safety of his room before having Slade placed there. He sat in the center of the room, bound by ropes as she had requested and wearing silt over his eyes to blind him (a nice touch on Sasha’s part, Joelene thought). Joelene’s lips turned upward in a smirk as she walked slowly over to him, making sure her heels clicked on the floor with every deliberate step.  


Slade took a deep breath, inhaling a floral scent. The sound of heels on the floor could only be one person, he knew. He was all too familiar with the way her heels felt against his cheek, so it was unsurprising when he felt his torso being pushed to the floor and his face once again was pressed against the solid ground beneath him. He couldn’t see them, but he knew by the slick leather feel of the shoe that these were Joelene’s signature heels. She quit running her shoe over the length of his face and without warning dug her heel down against his neck. The force of the blow startled him. The wind was knocked from his lungs, making his breathing escalate.  


When Joelene began to speak, he could tell she was smiling. “So, Slade, are you going to do as I have asked?”  


He inhaled, trying to calm his breathing before he responded. “I don’t think so, Joelene. You may have information on me, but I’m not going down that easily.”  


Joelene sighed. Of course it was going to be harder than that. She set her bag down with a thud, pulling out a set of bronze chains with metal hooks at both ends. She hooked one end of the chain onto a peg already drilled into the wall of the room and pulled Slade by his confining ropes to the corner where her set-up was. She hooked the other end of the chain to his ropes and left him dangling there, his feet hanging just above where he could touch the ground. She slid her fingers over the legs of his clothes teasingly.  


“I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way then. For old time’s sake.”  


Slade felt her step back from him and braced himself, preparing for what he knew was to come. He had only struggled briefly while Joelene had put him in this position—as much as he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he was in sharp anticipation of what was about to happen. He breathed in, out, in, out…  


A rushing sound washed over the room, blocking out any other noise. The silt from beneath the surface of the floor spiraled up under Joelene’s ministrations, pulling at Slade’s clothes as the wave of silt washed over him. He felt a burning pain as his clothes dissolved, leaving him exposed to whatever Joelene was going to do to him. His mind fogged at the thought of what she was planning to do. The silt moved back, and the wooshing sound resumed.  


The silt formed into a narrow black tentacle under Joelene’s careful control. She moved the tentacle up towards Slade’s clit, teasing it before suddenly plunging the tentacle inside him. The tentacle didn’t seem to meet much resistance at all. Slade groaned in pain, wearing a grimace, but his body reacted to every flick of Joelene’s fingers. She smirked again before questioning him.  


“Now how does that feel, Slade?”  


He moaned, as if in reply. Trying and failing to settle his heart rate before speaking, he stuttered, “F-fine, Joelene.”  


She shook her head and withdrew the tentacle from him, keeping it pressed against his thigh. The searing pain was immense. He sighed in pain and in resignation—he didn’t need to see her stern look to know what she was waiting for him to say.  


“Really good, mistress,” he corrected himself.  


“That’s better,” she stated coldly. She slid the tentacle back up to resume her work on him.  


He continued to moan, louder and louder, no longer trying to hide his pleasure at her touches. His body writhed in the air, his arms hitting against the stone-cold wall. The ropes strained on his wrists, hurting almost as much as the silt burning his core as it fucked him. The rope burns and silt burns he felt were dizzying, and he felt himself become more and more dazed from his lust and his pain.  


Suddenly, the rushing sound resumed. The tentacle began to split inside Slade, pushing against him before half of it slid out. Slade only felt the difference for a second before the tentacle began moving again. The remaining silt propelled Joelene up until she stood at eye level with Slade. She touched his face roughly and dissolved the silt over his eyes until he was staring straight into her eyes. Her face was devoid of any disturbance; her resting frown was the only expression he could grasp from her. Her eyes were full of coldness.  


Joelene removed the tentacle from him slowly, leaving him on the brink of orgasm. His breathing was still heavy as his heart pounded against his chest. He throbbed, his insides calling out for mercy. He moaned as she grabbed him by the chin and spoke, her eyes drilling holes into his.  


“I don’t think your wife would like this very much at all, Slade.”  


The realization that he had known subconsciously for a long time dawned on him: no one could make him feel the way Joelene did, not even Cerise. Silt. Joelene was right.  


“She doesn’t have to know. In fact, no one even has to bother her or your kids. If you do what I say.” She threatened, her face full of disgust.  


He steeled himself to make one final stake for himself, even though her disgust at him permeated into his mind and infected his thoughts as well. She saw his move coming, however.

Joelene lowered her hand down and punched his throbbing core as hard as she could, letting the silt coat her hand to make it as painful as possible. Slade squeaked in pain. After a few seconds his mind cleared enough for him to sigh, resigning himself to do whatever he had to do. His attraction to Joelene would break his wife’s heart, and that was the last thing he wanted.  


“Okay, fine. Whatever you want. What do I have to do?”


End file.
